


Light For Me

by lizandletdie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst without plot, Babyfic, F/M, Postpartum Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 15:38:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7646896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizandletdie/pseuds/lizandletdie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anon asked for a fic where Belle has postpartum depression and Rumple plants her a garden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light For Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 100th fic posted to AO3, so to celebrate here's some pain.
> 
> Please note, this is actually about postpartum depression and anxiety and if that bothers you please think about whether or not you really want to read it.

Something was wrong with Belle. At first, Rumplestiltskin had thought it was just new mother anxiety. She fussed over the baby and worried about everything from the temperature of the bath water to magical monsters appearing. He’d simply chalked it up to the normal fears of raising a first baby in a magical realm, and he’d done his best to reassure her that everything was alright. But soon, he had started to suspect that there was something very, very wrong.

She wasn’t sleeping, for one thing. It had taken him a little while to notice, because nobody really gets _that_ much sleep with a newborn, but lately even if they went to bed together she would be in the baby’s room when he woke up, even if he woke up for a few minutes at four in the morning to use the restroom. She also wasn’t sleeping during the day as far as he could tell. Maybe that was why she was so nervous, or maybe the nervousness was why she wasn’t sleeping, either way, she was clearly exhausted and he had no idea how to help.

He’d tried offering to take the baby out so she could rest, but no matter how long he kept Liora out Belle was always still awake when they got back and somehow seemed even more distressed than she had been when they left. Belle didn’t seem content at all unless she was physically holding the baby, and even lately that wasn’t enough. She was constantly checking the doors were locked, checking that the car was locked, checking all the windows...she would text him periodically throughout the day to see where he was if he wasn’t home and if she couldn’t see the baby from where she was then she would get up every few minutes to make sure she was breathing. He was sure she’d woken Liora up a few times, but there was no way to ask her about it. She was just so scared, and he was use to being the one who was scared. He wasn’t sure how to be the brave one.

The longer it went on, the shorter her temper got. She was on edge and snapping if the smallest thing went wrong and it was hard not to take it personally. Maybe it was just him? Milah had grown sick of him after Bae was born, perhaps he was just a terrible father?

He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse now, because while Milah had completely given up all care of their child to him Belle would scarcely trust him to be alone with their daughter. Even at her doctor’s visits Belle would triple check the carseat and sit in the back with Liora while he drove. She seemed halfway convinced she could stop anything bad ever happening by sheer force of will.

“Good morning,” Dr. Frankenstein said cheerfully as he walked into the exam room where they were waiting. “How’s baby Dark One doing today?”

“She’s fine,” Belle said with a thin smile and all Rumplestiltskin could do was nod in agreement. The baby was fine – it was her mother he was really worried about.

“Excellent,” Frankenstein replied, carefully unwrapping Liora from her blanket and onesie. “And how’s mom holding up?”

“I’m tired,” Belle said quietly. “But I’m fine.”

Rumple wanted her to tell the doctor that she hadn’t been eating or sleeping, but he sat there while Frankenstein made an offhand comment about how that was common for the first few months and she needed to make sure that she was sleeping when the baby slept. Belle just nodded in agreement with the doctor, and Rumplestiltskin noticed something else in her face besides the exhaustion he’d become used to. For a split second her nerves settled and he just saw her looking unbearably sad. Of course, then it was time to put the baby on a scale and the clouds of fear settled across her face again.

“She’s lost weight,” the doctor said. “How much has she been eating?”

“I don’t know,” Belle admitted. “I’ve been breast feeding. I thought she was doing okay, she does it for a long time.”

Frankenstein hummed a little in consideration and made a note on his clipboard.

“It’s possible you’re not producing enough milk,” he said and Belle looked completely stricken. “Have you thought about supplementing with formula?”

“But that’s not as good for her,” Belle replied. “Is there something I can do to make more come out?”

“You can try some supplements,” he said. “And I’d definitely encourage you to keep trying, but the most important thing is to make sure that she’s fed first and foremost. A lot of times the issue is just a bad latch and if it’s taking her awhile to nurse then that’s probably it. She could also be a bad nurser. Just keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll give you a referral to a midwife to practice your technique and we’ll see if that helps.”

Belle was nodding, but Rumplestiltskin could see the tears already welling up in her eyes as she held the baby for a blood draw, and she wouldn’t look at anybody as she put Liora back into her onesie and blanket, or even as they left the office.

It was a long drive home in silence, and as soon as they were parked she was out of the car and heading towards the house. He quickly retrieved Liora, trying hard not to be terrified of what it meant that she had left the baby in his care. He wasn’t even entirely certain that Belle was eating, perhaps it would be better for everyone to feed the baby with a bottle so that Belle could focus on whatever it was that was bothering her without this additional pressure.

“Belle,” he called out as he walked through the front door. “Where are you?”

She didn’t answer, so he walked the house with the baby on his shoulder until he finally found her sitting on the floor of her closet and sobbing uncontrollably.

“Go away,” she sniffled as soon as she noticed him. “I just need a minute and I’ll be fine.”

“Belle, sweetheart…” he didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t okay. She most certainly wasn’t going to be fine. “There are plenty of options. We can give her a bottle. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“She’s starving,” Belle sobbed. “I’m starving her.”

“No,” he replied. “You’re doing your best. Nobody could possibly be doing more than you. If anything, you’re putting too much pressure on yourself.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, and she just started crying harder. He was so lost, and he just didn’t know what to do to help her or if he even could.

 

Belle felt _wrong_. She couldn’t put it into words, but she’d been feeling wrong for weeks and she wasn’t sure how to make it better. New mothers weren’t supposed to feel like this. She was supposed to be happy and tired and in love with her baby, and all she felt was this vast emptiness. She didn’t even know what to tell people besides that she was tired. Mothers were supposed to be tired, but they weren’t supposed to be afraid of their husband leaving the house and not coming back or sad all the time. In her darker moments, she doubted having the baby in the first place had even been a good idea. She loved Liora, but she didn’t think that she was a very good mother to her.

She was also terrified somebody would take her daughter from her. It was a bizarre paradox. She wasn’t a good mother, she wasn’t sure she should have had Liora, but she also knew she’d die if she lost her.

“Belle?” Rumple called her name from the door of the bedroom. “Come on, sweetheart, it’s time for dinner.”

She didn’t want to go to dinner. She wasn’t hungry, and trying to eat made her feel sick. Nothing had any taste to it anymore, but it was harder to explain that she wasn’t hungry than it was to follow him downstairs and let him put food in front of her. She picked at it aimlessly, but she could tell he was watching her. She felt like a child as she carefully ate chicken and vegetables which all tasted completely flavorless. She knew she should eat more and that it was probably why she wasn’t making enough milk, but her stomach clenched with each swallow.

“I was thinking…” his voice trailed off a little bit while he seemed to be gathering his thoughts. “Why don’t we try supplementing her with formula for a little while? You can breastfeed still and we can get a breast pump but it’s been so much pressure on you this way and I’d like to help more.”

They’d discussed pumping breast milk so he could feed the baby while she had been pregnant, but neither one had ever gotten around to buying the pump or even bottles. She’d been too enamored with this picture perfect idea of how she was going to be a perfect mother, and she thought he was, too. He’d wanted her to succeed almost as much as she’d wanted to, and the fact that she couldn’t do something as simple as feed her baby was a slap in the face. What kind of mother couldn’t feed her child?

“Okay,” she said at last. “That’s probably a good idea.”

Eating was entirely beyond her by then, and she hadn’t checked on the baby recently anyway. She left the plates to Rumple and retreated to the nursery. Liora was almost too quietly asleep, but her chest was rising and falling evenly and Belle felt the tension in her chest relaxing.

“I’m sorry, my love,” she whispered to the baby. “I’m sorry I failed you.”

Liora didn’t stir, and Belle touched her daughter’s cheek gently. She was so tiny, and so helpless in her crib. How could Belle ever hope to protect this child?

 

Watching him bottle feed the baby was the worst, but Liora was eating well now and as much as Belle felt like a failure her daughter was putting on weight. She’d missed her midwife appointment, but she just couldn’t bring herself to go tell someone else what a bad mother she was. She’d started avoiding him altogether as much as possible. If he was home with the baby, she’d be in their room pretending to sleep. Not that she could actually sleep. The second she laid down her mind was racing with lists of everything that could possibly go wrong, and she couldn’t silence it. It was miserable, and she felt so helpless.

The door swung open and she rolled over to hopefully let him think she’d been asleep, but she was too slow.

“Hey,” he said, coming to sit near her feet. “Did you sleep well?”

“More or less,” she lied. “What’s up?”

“I have a surprise for you,” he said, resting one hand on her knee. “If you’re feeling up to it.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise. You have to come downstairs to see it.”

“Rumple…” she protested weakly. She didn’t want to go downstairs. She wanted to waste away to nothing.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her up. “It will only take a second I promise.”

She nodded and let him lead her down the stairs. She was taking them slower lately, for some reason the idea of tripping and falling had begun to creep into her day to day life and made it hard for her to go downstairs if she needed to – especially if Liora was in her arms.

“What is it?” she asked again.

“It’s in the backyard,” he replied. “I need you to close your eyes.”

She sighed dramatically at him, but closed her eyes anyway as he guided her slowly through the backdoor and into the sunshine. It had been a few days since she’d been outside and the sun on her skin felt warm and cozy and the yard smelled of flowers and fresh air. It was a little bit of sweetness that somehow made her feel her sadness more acutely. Like she’d forgotten how good things could feel until that moment.

“Can I open them?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she didn’t even recognize the place. He’d replaced the bushes flanking the house with roses, and planted flowers all around. She recognized lavender and pansies and sunflowers and there were so many others she didn’t know.

“What is all this?”

“I thought it was time to put in a proper garden,” he replied. “And before you ask, everything here is edible so there’s no need to worry about Liora eating them when she’s walking. And look! There’s a porch swing now, so you can sit out here with her if you like. Especially now that the weather is improving. It will be good for you both. And when she gets a little older we can put a sandbox here for her or a little paddling pool.”

“It’s beautiful, thank you.”

She wanted to be more excited than she was. He’d put so much effort into making something that she’d enjoy, and she appreciated it but it felt like she’d never be happy again.

“If there’s something else you’d prefer we can do that instead,” he said softly, watching her intently. “We can do anything you’d like.”

“No, your idea is wonderful. I’m sorry, I just haven’t been feeling like myself lately.”

“Belle?” he said her name so softly she was almost crying just from the sound of it. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been so sad these last weeks. I’ll do anything to make it better if you’ll just tell me.”

“It’s fine, I promise.”

“No, it’s not,” he pressed. “You cry, you don’t sleep, you barely eat, you’re nervous...just tell me. If I did something or if someone else did I’ll fix it, I promise. I just want you back.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” she said at last, the words just falling out of her. “I just can’t stop thinking of all the bad things that can happen to us or of all the things I’m doing wrong. I can’t be happy and I don’t know why. I can’t love her like I’m supposed to and I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How can it possibly be okay?”

“I don’t know, but we can do your very favorite thing – read. You have all those books upstairs about babies. There has to be something in one of them, doesn’t there?”

She wasn’t so sure, but he was and maybe it was time to let him hold her up for a little while, wasn’t it?

 

It had been six weeks since Rumple had found the magic words _postpartum depression_ in one of her books and Belle was finally starting to feel better. They’d gone to see Archie the next day, and he’d one upped them with a diagnosis of postpartum depression comorbid with postpartum anxiety. Even just having a name for what was wrong had helped her so much more than she could put into words. She wasn’t broken, it was just something wrong that could be fixed.

Once she was eating again, her milk supply started to increase, which helped with the sense of failure. It took some work and a lot of pumping to get back up to levels where Liora could go back off the formula, but she was grateful that it had been an option when she’d needed it.

Belle had done four weeks of therapy before one day she was sitting in the garden watching her husband walk their baby in the sunshine and suddenly the clouds in her head parted for just that instant and she felt herself awash with love and happiness and a sense of grief for those months of Liora’s life that she’d missed and couldn’t ever get back. She could be present now, though, and that was worth celebrating.


End file.
